The Cosy Little Cupcake Van: A deliciously feel-good romance

by Annette Hannah

  She showered quickly and sang loudly. She fizzed with nervous energy and felt she had to keep herself busy today. She gave the house a quick once-over. The icing sugar seemed to get everywhere but she chased every last bit away with some furniture polish and a duster.

  It would take her an hour to get to the nursing home where she had a double delivery for a ninetieth birthday cake in the shape of a large Singer sewing machine for a lady who had been a seamstress in her younger days. It had been one of the hardest cakes she’d ever made, along with ninety cupcakes, each with a tiny version of the sewing machine made out of icing, which she and Angela had been making for days. The other delivery was for a gender-reveal cake. The customer had confided in Camilla that the inside of the cake should be pink as she was expecting a girl. The pink sponge was iced in white with pastel-coloured baby toys made out of fondant placed around the outside with a little teddy made of marzipan sitting on the top.

  Camilla had loved baking the gender-reveal cake and decided to add that idea to her leaflet before the next print run. She would also add them to the website. Gender-reveal cupcakes would also be a huge hit for baby showers. She packed them into their boxes and carefully loaded them into the back of the cupcake van. She locked her front door and began typing the address into the sat nav on her phone. Long journeys to deliver cakes were always a tad traumatic because there was more time for something to go wrong with her masterpieces so she drove extra cautiously.

  Eventually she pulled up in the car park of the nursing home. The building was pretty and modern with flowering hanging baskets at either side of the front door. She rang the bell and saw a lady in a white overall smile at her through the glass and wave. Camilla heard a buzz and the door clicked open; she could smell a hearty beef stew just like the one Auntie Edie made, which caused her stomach to rumble.

  ‘Hi can I help you?’ asked the friendly staff member.

  ‘Oh yes please, I’m Camilla from Camilla’s Cupcakes and I have a cake delivery for a Mrs Bradley. I wondered if you had a trolley I could borrow as the cakes are quite large.’ She gestured behind herself to where the cupcake van sat with the door open.

  ‘Of course – just give me a minute and I’ll go and get one from the kitchen.’ She disappeared through a door and the lady behind the reception desk smiled at Camilla and gestured for her to sit down. Camilla sat in one of the comfortable leather armchairs for a couple of minutes, making small talk with the receptionist until she could hear the rattling of the trolley as the other lady reappeared.

  ‘Here you are. I’ve brought some tablecloths so we can pretty it up.’ Camilla glanced at the name badge and grabbed the front handle of the trolley to help steer it out of the building towards the van.

  ‘Thanks, Jan, at least there’s a slope here so that makes it easier.’

  ‘Yes we have to be accessible, you see, for wheelchairs,’ said Jan as she shook out the folded crisp white tablecloth and smoothed it down on the top of the trolley then did the same for the second shelf. The bottom shelf was filled with plates and napkins and cups and saucers.

  Camilla carefully unboxed the large cake and placed it on the trolley to plenty of oohs and aahs from Jan.

  ‘Carol, come out here and see this – it’s amazing,’ she shouted. The receptionist was out there in a flash.

  ‘That looks so real. Mrs Bradley will love that won’t she, Jan! She used to be a seamstress back in the day. She even said she made costumes for the West End once upon a time.’

  ‘Ah that’s lovely,’ Camilla replied. ‘Sounds like she’s had an interesting life.’ The phone rang and Carol ran back in to answer it.

  Jan helped to arrange the cupcakes on the lower shelf, whilst Camilla placed the smaller cake next to the other one and arranged cupcakes around those too. She slammed the van doors shut and locked them. Camilla pushed the trolley from the back whilst Jan steered from the front.

  ‘What an achievement to get to ninety,’ said Camilla as they walked down a long corridor, passing doors that opened into glimpses of people’s lives that they’d had to pack up for one reason or another.

  ‘Ah yes, though she’s very poorly now and hasn’t got long left at all, but her granddaughter has made today so special for her. This morning a string quartet turned up to play her favourite music that she and her husband used to dance to and she’s had these beautiful cakes made with enough for all of the staff and residents to have some.

  ‘They lived abroad for many years, but the granddaughter came back to England about six years ago and brought her grandma back with her. Unfortunately, she’s now got dementia so we’re all hoping that she will still be around long enough for the baby to be born. Although I think that’s one of the reasons why her granddaughter wanted the gender-reveal cake so that at least her gran will know whether it’s a boy or a girl. They’re very close, oops, hold on.’ She stopped talking to pull the trolley into the day room.

  ‘Oh no, dementia is such a cruel disease isn’t it.’ Camilla’s thoughts flashed to Auntie Edie and the small bouts of forgetfulness she had at times.

  ‘Yes, it really is. She’s having a good day today, I think. We’ve had to move her bed into the day room so that all of her family can be with her. Right, now let’s light these candles and I’ll dim the lights, then as you push the trolley I’ll start off the singing.’

  Jan bent down to the bottom of the trolley and revealed the candles in the shape of a nine and a zero. She reached into her overall pocket and pulled out a lighter. After a couple of flicks it eventually shot out a flame that nearly singed her eyebrows, and then she lit the candles.

  About twenty family members were standing around the bed with disposable plastic flutes half filled with champagne. The old lady in the bed was frail-looking with wispy white hair and liver spots on her hands and face. She was wearing a pretty pink bedjacket over a white cotton nightie. She sipped at a glass of champagne and held hands with a heavily pregnant woman next to her bed. There was a twinkle in the old lady’s eye as she laughed with the younger woman and the dark-haired man who had his arm around her; they were obviously a close family.

  Jan dipped the lights and began to sing happy birthday as Camilla pushed the trolley towards them. Jan steered from the front as the cake was so high that Camilla could hardly see where she was going and didn’t want to smack the trolley into the old lady’s bed. When everybody stopped singing, a little boy asked if he could blow the candles out and when it was done everybody cheered and Jan turned the lights back on.

  ‘And now for another surprise, Gran,’ said the pregnant woman. ‘It’s time for the gender reveal! Let’s find out if you’re going to have a fifth great-grandson or a first great-granddaughter.’ Mrs Bradley clapped her hands in anticipation as her granddaughter picked up the knife to cut the cake. The man she was with, turned towards the trolley and that’s when Camilla’s world collapsed.

  The man’s face had frozen as his eyes locked with hers. Acid rose up in her throat and blood raced through her body, burning as though it were volcanic lava. When it reached her newly mended heart it shattered it over again into irreparable pieces. Her legs felt wobbly and there was an awful ringing sound in her ears. She watched as Blake’s eyes seemed to plead with her before he shook his head and looked down.

  Camilla felt as though she and Blake were taking part in a mannequin challenge, stationary like statues whilst everyone else was cheering after seeing the inside of the cake. Mrs Bradley and her granddaughter were crying tears of joy mingled with sadness that this older lady would not be a part of this precious little girl’s life. Everyone else was moving but they were frozen solid, like ghosts watching other people go about their everyday lives whilst their lives were stuck in limbo for eternity.

  It took a few seconds before Camilla realised the pregnant lady was thanking her and telling her what a wonderful job she had done with the cakes. Then to Camilla’s horror she put her arms around her and hugged her. Camilla could feel the swollen
belly touching her, Blake’s baby. She disentangled herself from the woman, who must have felt like she was hugging an ironing board as she had been so rigid.

  ‘I’m sorry, I have to go. I need to be somewhere.’ She stuttered and walked out of the room. She couldn’t wait to be out of that place, but her legs wouldn’t allow her to run. She felt as though she was wading through treacle. Each step drained her of her life force. She noticed a door marked ‘ladies’ and only just made it to the sink where she threw up bile and acid. She pulled a paper towel from the container above the sink and ran it under the cold tap then held it on her forehead to try and ease the burning sensation. Her eyes felt on fire from unshed tears that threatened to flow and her throat ached with the golf-ball-sized lump that appeared to be stuck in it.

  Her need to escape overruled any need to stick around for one more minute in this place and so on shaky legs she made her way back to her cupcake van where she could feel safe again.

  She pulled out of the car park and drove until she could find a motorway services to stop and take stock of what was going on. She knew it was unsafe to drive in the state she was in so she bought a camomile tea and a bar of chocolate and sat in the cupcake van until she had calmed down. As the chocolate melted soothingly in her mouth, she picked up her phone and turned it on again as she’d turned it off to make the delivery. It immediately buzzed into life; she had several missed calls and texts from Blake. She could see the first line of one of his texts without having to open it and she laughed in disgust.

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  Surely you can think of a better one than that, she was tempted to text back, but she stood her ground. She deleted all of his texts and answerphone messages and then blocked his number. She had a flashback to him standing there with his arm around that woman, then the look of abject horror that was frozen on his face and at the same time of that woman pressing her belly against her when she hugged her. She had heard him call her name as she stumbled down the corridor. The secrecy and lies from this man were disgusting. Whatever happened to the Blake she knew of old? Where had he gone? A pang of hurt ripped through her heart at the loss of what might have been for the two of them.

  Anger began to flood her veins as she thought about his betrayal. Was he one of those weird men who lived a double life? Thank God she found out now before she had invested any more time in him. She had seen her future in that man and now it had all come crashing down; it was all a façade. She held on to the anger and used it to power herself home. She didn’t know what she was going to do yet but she knew she needed to get away from all of this.

  When she arrived home to the comfort of Cupcake Cottage, the heavy heart had disappeared and had been replaced by a hollow feeling. Even her limbs felt empty. She opened a bottle of red wine, poured herself a large glass and put some music on. Feeling peckish she rummaged in the large kitchen cupboard for some crisps and nibbles and accidentally knocked a bag of flour off the shelf.

  ‘Oh damn,’ she muttered to herself as everything looked like it had been caught in a snowdrift. She pulled out everything from the bottom of the cupboard and dusted off the boxes, one of which was from her room in her mum’s house. She swept up using a dustpan and brush, then vacuumed and mopped. Once the floor was dry she slid the freshly wiped storage boxes back into the cupboard but took the one from her mum’s house into the living room.

  There was no time like the present to go through it. After all, she didn’t think she could possibly be any more miserable. She topped up her wine glass and filled a bowl with crisps, this time being careful not to cause any more mess. She had found it quite cathartic to clean up; now if only she could clean up the mess that her life had become.

  She rifled through the box and pulled out a scrapbook that had belonged to her mother. She ran her fingers along the soft brown cover and breathed in the warm smell of leather. It was a common sight when she was growing up, to see her mum with magazine cuttings all over the table. Camilla would help glue them into the scrapbook for her. Anything to do with Hawaii, the place her mum had always wanted to go, had gone in the scrapbook. She cuddled it to her chest and warmth spread through her body like a linctus soothing a sore throat.

  Camilla knew what she wanted to do and called Auntie Edie. She answered eventually and Camilla could visualise her wandering around the house wondering where she’d put the phone.

  ‘Auntie Edie, can I pop round and see you tomorrow? I’ve got something to tell you,’ she spluttered in one breath.

  ‘Yes of course you can, my darling; come at a quarter to four as there’s something I’d like you to see.’

  Camilla filled her glass and took a sip, just as her phone rang. She jumped, and her wine sloshed all over her face. Unknown number flashed up on the screen. Could it be Blake calling from someone else’s phone? She really didn’t want to speak to him, as much as it hurt her heart to say it. It was over between them. She cut the call but a couple of seconds later it rang again so she answered it.

  ‘Hello, Cami, it’s me. Please don’t hang up.’ The sound of his voice almost melted her heart. She so wanted him to have an explanation that made all of this go away but that was an impossible task. She knew what she’d seen: a happy little family unit.

  ‘What do you want?’ she whispered.

  ‘I want you. Please let me come round and explain.’

  ‘You lied to me.’ Her voice was stronger.

  ‘Yes, well no…not really. Please let me come and explain.’ He sounded desperate.

  ‘Answer me one question? That’s all I need to know.’ Her voice was stronger and she felt more in control.

  ‘Anything,’ he replied.

  ‘Who was that woman?’ She willed him to say it was his sister or a cousin. Any of those would do and would stop this nightmare situation. Her heart was pounding in anticipation of the answer. He paused; she could hear him breathe a heavy sigh.

  ‘Who was she?’ she shouted. She couldn’t help herself.

  ‘She’s my ex-wife.’ She could hear the suppression in his tone as though he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance in convincing her that she should listen to him now. ‘But please let me explain…’

  Her stomach was filled with rocks; her heart became stone. His ex-wife was pregnant – he’d forgotten to mention that little nugget of information – and they’d all looked so happy together: he with his arm around her, both laughing. Happy families!

  She gripped the phone so tightly that her knuckles were going white; her voice became so deep it was almost a growl.

  ‘Don’t you ever contact me again. You’re nothing but a liar and I hate you.’

  ‘Oh, come on, don’t you think you’re over-reacting just a little.’

  ‘Over-reacting? Look, I don’t want to hear from you again. So why don’t you just piss off back to Canada and leave me alone.’ She had a burning urge to slam the phone down but instead she switched it off and threw it on the rug. She would need to block that number now. Her heart was beating rapidly so she took a few deep breaths and decided to meditate for a little while, until she felt calmer.

  She wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity. A few months ago she would have crumbled because of what happened with Blake but now she was able to cope with anything that life could throw at her. She saw the voucher she’d won and realised it was time to cash it in. She deserved a holiday and she knew just the person to call to accompany her.

  Chapter 37

  A couple of weeks later Camilla was sitting on a plane sipping champagne and laughing with her companion, the one person who she knew would never let her down. Her business was left in capable hands with Angela, who had drafted in a friend to help. Lindsey had also been living at the shelter and had two school-age children. She was an accomplished baker and had also just needed someone to give her a chance to get back on her feet. Camilla decided that she could deal with everything else, including her exciting novelty cake book, when she got back from her holiday of a lifetime.<
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  She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the scrapbook she had found in the box from her mum’s house, alongside some of Camilla’s first pictures and Christmas decorations she had made at primary school. Sitting in the middle of the box had been the Christmas angel that her mum had bought in a charity shop; the dress had once been lacy but had been tattered when she bought it. However, every year her mum would make a new dress for the angel using scraps of material. Camilla had stroked it lovingly when she found it.

  The memories of a happy childhood with just the two of them fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She remembered one year they had so little money that her mum made the dress out of tinfoil and Camilla had gazed in wonderment as the angel sparkled on top of the tree. That had been her favourite dress and her mum had made her one too. Those were such simple times when some tinfoil fashioned into a crown, a dress and jewellery had made her feel like a real princess.

  The book was battered and dog-eared but as Camilla stroked the pages she could sense the depth of longing and hopes and dreams that her mum had poured into it as a teenager and had continued to add to as she had gone through her life. The pages were bursting with magazine cut-outs and newspaper articles, along with a complete written itinerary of everywhere her mum had wanted to visit and everything she wanted to do in Hawaii.